Alone
by hello-hero
Summary: “And silently, he sat alone, with his pain, his sorrow.” A short story of friendship, pain, and undying love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I do not own any of the X-men… though I wish I did.

**Other: **Set just after X2

**Chapter One**

The night was hot and humid, not even a hint of a breeze drifting through the open windows of the school. Bobby Drake tossed and turned uncomfortably in his bed, his covers long ago being flung off his bed, and down onto the floor. He guessed it was funny, in a strange sort of way. After spending so long trying to wake up, it was now nigh impossible to fall asleep… and Bobby wasn't sure which one he preferred. With a small sigh, he sat up in his bed, swinging his legs around, and dropping his head into his hands. He was dressed only in plain boxer shorts, trying to keep as cool as possible – however, nothing seemed to be working right now.

Finally, he decided he had to give in. There was no use in trying any longer. Bobby silently got to his feet, stretching his arms out. His gaze wandered around his dark room for a moment, mere outlines of objects being able to be seen. For a moment, his gaze rested on the empty bed that was still present on the other side of his room – no-one had yet to sleep in it since John had left, even though the influx of students meant rooms were getting rapidly filled up. Beds were needed, and Bobby had been asked already, whether he would allow someone to sleep there; but although he wasn't a selfish person, he had still muttered a quick no. However, with a slight shake of his head, these thoughts left his mind, and Bobby stood up. Grabbing a t-shirt that lay hanging over a nearby chair, he pulled it over his head, and made his way to his door.

His bare feet made no noise as he walked across the carpeted floor of the boy's dorm section of the mansion, but Bobby was still trying to be as quiet as he could. He knew if he got caught, he would get into trouble – it was late in the night, and there were pretty strict rules about bedtimes. However, he knew the teachers knew about his nightly outings down to the kitchen, and they could easily stop him if they tried… although, until they did, he would continue… come to think of it, even if they did try and stop him, Bobby would probably still continue!

Bobby finally found himself down in the main kitchen of the school, and his hand lifted to click on the light switch on the wall. He glanced around the room, checking that no-one else was in there… although, he had never come across anyone before. He moved over to the freezer automatically, dropping to one knee to get down to its level.

The cool air that escaped from the freezer as he opened it caused a smile to twitch at Bobby's lips. He breathed in deeply, his hand moving up to grasp some ice and crush it in his hand. His gaze scanned the tops of the ice cream pots, searching for his favourite flavour. Vanilla. He could never understand how the other kids in the school could eat all kinds of weird and wonderful flavours – but then again, none of the other kids ate nearly half as much ice cream as he did. Finally, he came across a pot, and moving quickly, pulled it out, shutting the freezer door behind him. Bobby shifted slightly, so that he sat with his back leaning against the door, the cool surface chilly against his back. He lifted his arm, pulling open a drawer by his head, and with a moment's fumbling, managed to grab hold of a spoon. Eagerly, Bobby ripped the top off the ice cream pot, and dug his spoon into it.

Bobby brought the spoon up level to his eyes, surveying the clean scoop of ice cream. The smile grew ever wider on his face as he brought the food down to his mouth. He savored the taste, leaning his head back to rest against the door of the freezer, his eyes closing. But as the smooth, creamy taste made it's presence known, a voice drifted in his mind; "Not your stupid ice cream **again**!" Bobby's eyes snapped open, searching for the person who had spoken – but he knew he wouldn't find anyone. Because it had been John Allerdyce's voice… and he wasn't back at the mansion.

It had been only a couple of days since John had left. He had walked out of the jet, with barely a glance back to Bobby… and that was what hurt the most. A frown was etched on Bobby's normally friendly face, his eyes downcast. He stared furiously down into the slowly melting ice cream, his spoon dangling uselessly in his hand. Why couldn't anything just be right?!

Silently, Bobby sat alone in the dimly-lit kitchen, as tears slowly started to roll down his cheeks. He was confused, and he didn't know what to do anymore… he used to have everything in control but now, nothing was right… He let the spoon drop out of his hand, the noise of it hitting the floor ringing out into the quiet school, although he didn't care much anymore... Bobby didn't even notice as a figure appeared at the doorway of the kitchen...

--

Scott hated the fact that there was a double bed in his room – every time he walked in, it just reminded him of what he had lost. His beautiful fiancée, his best friend, his lover… The pain felt like it was almost a physical blow, and sometimes he found himself stumbling to one knee. But now, he stood stock still in the doorway, his eyes hidden by his dark glasses… His fists were clenched at his side, his brow knitted into a frown. No longer could he sleep in this room – there were too many memories, too many reminders of _her_. And it hurt so much. Swiftly turning his back on the room, Scott let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

He had tried to not let his emotions show around the students… but sometimes, it was too much effort, and he quite simply did not have enough energy left. He didn't like it that people pitied him – it meant they didn't respect him. Sometimes, Scott wondered if he still had it in him to be the X-men leader. He used to be so sure of himself, but now, not so… If people died in **his** team, it was **his **fault… he was the leader, after all. He should've been able to stop it; he should've done something different. Scott had briefly discussed these thoughts with Xavier, who had told him that of course it was not his fault... but he had to say that, didn't he?

Scott shook these thoughts out of his head, wanting peace at least for a moment. Suddenly, he realized, that he had been walking, his feet leading, instead of his brain. He had already made his way down the main stairs, and seeing a light on in the kitchen, curiously made his way towards the room, wondering who would be up at this time. As he turned the corner to see Bobby alone, the expression on his face softened slightly.

"Bobby," Scott said softly, about to open his mouth once more to send the boy to bed. But as he glanced up, and Scott caught sight of the tears that had been hurriedly brushed away, his mouth closed once more. Instead, he moved forward into the lit room, and then, with a moment's hesitation, moved to sit next to Bobby. He stretched his legs out, staring straight ahead, allowing the silence to fall again.

And silently, they sat together, each with their own pain, their own sorrow.

--

Piotr gazed down at the picture that was in his hands, his usually cheerful face twisted in the expression of pain. His blue eyes shone with tears, but none had fallen yet. His hands shook slightly, his knuckles white as his grip tightened. The picture was of a pretty, young girl, blonde hair cascading down to her shoulders, a broad smile on her face, as she sat happily on a swing, mid-flight. The picture was of Piotr's younger sister, his dear sweet 'snowflake', Illyana.

Only a couple of days ago, Piotr had received the dreadful news – that she had passed away, back home in Russia, due to an illness that none of the doctors could help with. And the pain was almost too much to take, as he realized that never again, was he going to be able to see her again, to pick her up and swing her onto his shoulders, to hear her innocent laugh…

With a small sigh, Piotr let the photo drop softly to the floor, and brought a hand up to brush away the tears. He knew he had to get out of his room soon; else he was going to go mad. Standing up to his full height, he glanced at the time; 1:40 am. Piotr hadn't ventured much out of his room, since the news, but now, as it was so early (or late, whichever way you looked at it), he guessed not many people would be around… not many people would be there, to constantly ask if he was okay, and say that they were sorry. Piotr hated the way people said sorry to him – there was nothing they could do, and they couldn't change it now! But he knew they were just trying to be polite…

He moved to open his door, and glanced down the corridor both ways, just to confirm to himself that it was empty. Moving out of his room, Piotr shut the door quietly behind him, and made his way down the main stairs. A slight frown appeared on his face, as he saw light shining out of a room, and although his previous thoughts of not wanting to meet anyone were still present in his mind, he moved forward to it… Spotting Bobby and Scott sitting with their backs to a cupboard, a small, sad smile twitched at his lips. Without even saying a word, Piotr moved forward, and lowered himself to sit next to Scott, drawing his knees up to his chest. He stared down at the floor unseeingly, once more lost in his thoughts.

And silently, they sat together, each with their own pain, their own sorrow.

--

Logan had never really classed anything as his home. Neither had he ever really felt that he had truly fell in love with someone… but it seemed things changed. When he returned back to the school, after his small 'trip' away, he had truly felt like he was going home. And judging by the pain he was in now, he must have fallen in love… Logan hated to admit that he felt pain. It made him look weak – but this pain was like no other that he had ever felt… and unlike the other pains he had experienced, it wasn't healing straight away.

Logan had taken to checking the mansion at night, after finding he couldn't sleep. He felt like it was his fault that the mansion had been attacked… it was his fault that Jean died. If he had not been at the mansion, Stryker wouldn't have come for him there – with all those soldiers and everything! So, now, he was determined not to let anything like that ever happen again. He paced the corridors of the mansion, his senses alert, his mind awake, constantly aware of the smallest sounds.

As Logan moved around the ground level, he spotted the light of the kitchen shining out into the dark corridor. A frown appeared on his face, as he was sure he had turned off all the lights on his first time around the school. His pace quickened ever so slightly, his hands clenched, ready for anything. But as soon as he caught the faint scent of whom was in the room, he slowly relaxed, and moved to the open door.

Logan slowly surveyed the three men, each sitting with their backs to the cupboards. None of them talked… heck, none of them even seemed like they had even acknowledged him! Everyone was suffering in the school, Logan knew that at least, and it looked like all the people in front of him were in pain…

There was only thing for him to do. Logan moved forward, and sat down next to Piotr,

And silently, they sat together, each with their own pain, their own sorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I do not own any of the X-men… though I wish I did.

**Other: **Set just after X2

**Chapter Two**

Kitty knocked gently on the door in front of her, hoping she wasn't waking up the person who should be inside. She knew she could just as easily phase through the door, but she thought, no, _knew, _ that would be rude. "Piotr?" She called out softly, her gaze glancing down the corridor, hoping that no-one else would come down it. Of course, it was strictly forbidden for her to be down the boy's corridor, especially at night, but she had to talk to Piotr. Kitty had heard the news from his own mouth about his sister, and was equally upset about it – Piotr had asked her about two years ago, to become Illyana's pen pal, and the two girls had kept in contact, often with Kitty slipping in a letter to her with Piotr's letters back to his family. She also knew how close the Rasputin family was, and had worried constantly about Piotr for the past few days – he hadn't come out of his room much, and Kitty had never seen him this upset before.

"Piotr?" Kitty whispered hurriedly again, and with a sigh, decided there was only one thing for it. Praying that if he saw, he wouldn't be too upset by it, Kitty phased her head through the door, and glanced around the room. A slight frown creased her brow, as she saw that the bed was still made, and Piotr didn't appear to be anywhere in the room. Kitty withdrew her head, trying to think where he would be.

Kitty slowly wandered down the corridor, towards the stairs, her gaze flicking around, searching for the gentle giant. The passing thought floated through her mind that he might have left to go back home to his parents, but with a shake of her head, she reminded herself that there was no way Piotr would do that without telling her. Finally, Kitty spotted him, in the kitchen… with three others.

"Katya?" Piotr asked softly, as he glanced up to see the newcomer, his blue eyes fixed on her hazel ones. "Oh, Piotr!" Kitty only managed to murmur, before rushing forward, and kneeling in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn't much care that the other men probably thought her stupid, and childish… instead, she buried her face into his shoulder, the tears rolling softly down her face, and soaking into Piotr's shirt. Piotr pulled her closer, and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head, trying desperately to stop his own tears from falling. Without warning, Piotr stood up, gently holding Kitty's hand in one of his own. As she too stood up, the large height difference was obvious, but it seemed to make no difference to the young couple's relationship. Silently, the two moved to go out of the room, leaving the others behind. They knew each other was hurting – and they knew they could find comfort in one another.

--

Storm had tried to occupy herself with work, trying to keep her mind off all that had happened in the past few days… but nothing seemed to be working. She sighed, leaning back in her chair, and covering her face with her hands. It felt strange to think that Jean was no longer going to be here, no longer going to come in with a warming cup of hot chocolate, just because she felt that Storm needed one. They had been friends since the first day Storm had started… They had grown up with each other; they had shared their fears, and hopes. Storm had been the one to encourage Jean to ask Scott out... Storm was even going to be the maid of honour at their wedding. But now, it was all gone, just like that.

Storm stood up, stretching her arms up towards the ceiling. Piles of paper lay on the desk in front of her, but they would just have to wait for now. She needed a drink. Slowly, she made her way towards the kitchen, lost in her own thoughts, as she walked through the silent corridors. As she turned the corner, and saw the three men sitting side by side, a hand flew up to cover her mouth.

Scott was the only one who looked up, and with a slight start, Storm realized how pale he looked. "Scott…" Storm whispered, moving forward towards him, and crouching down to come to his eye level. The two sat for a moment in silence, simply watching each other, before Scott dropped his head, and brought a hand up to slip underneath his glasses. Storm placed a soothing touch on his 

other hand, and then, slipped her hand around to grasp his. "Come on…" She murmured again, "you have to get some rest." Scott nodded; glad for once that someone else was finally taking charge.

The two walked away hand in hand, their friendship becoming ever stronger, because of whom they had lost.

--

Rogue couldn't sleep. No matter what she did, whether she counted sheep, or counted backwards from 100, sleep just seemed to want to evade her. Every time she closed her eyes, she just imagined herself falling, and not being able to stop. Those few seconds in the air, when they had been on the jet, were so terrifying – and yet strangely, it had felt so good. Sighing angrily, she sat up, swinging her feet around to touch the floor. She glanced across to her slumbering roommate, almost angry at her for being able to get to sleep, when she couldn't. Rogue stood up, and moved out of their room, grabbing her gloves as she walked by.

What could she do now? Rogue knew she had to do something fairly quiet, so as to not wake up the rest of the school, or get caught… A look of concentration appeared on her face, as she slowly made her way down the stairs, one hand trailing down the banister. There was probably some other students up as well, what with everything that had happened recently… insomnia often ran through the school… Rogue decided to fetch herself a snack, and as she made her way down to the kitchen, noticed the light spilling out. So her suspicions were true. Others _were_ up.

Planting a fake smile on her face, Rogue moved to step into the room, but stopped stock still, as she saw who it was. Logan and Bobby. Rogue gazed at the two men in front of her, her green eyes shining with confusion. Who was she meant to go to? Both obviously had something on their mind, and both looked like they need someone to talk to…

Logan silently stood up, and moved forward to move out of the door, not wanting to cause arguments, especially not tonight of all nights. He glanced across to Rogue as they passed, and his hand gently moved to brush against her gloved one. That mere touch was enough to make Rogue's mind up.

Rogue cast an apologetic look towards Bobby, and turning on her heel quickly, moved to go after Logan, leaving the kitchen.

--

And so, Bobby was left alone once more. Finally, the tears started to fall, and he tilted his head backwards to gaze up at the ceiling, trying to gulp back the sobs. There was only one person who would've been able to console him. But Bobby knew he wouldn't come. He was miles away; he had left Bobby behind as if he was nothing… He had left Bobby **alone**. Everyone had someone else to turn to, but Bobby's 'person' had left…

His roommate…

His best friend…

John.

And silently, he sat alone, with his pain, his sorrow.


End file.
